Élisabeth Denis

Q.  Let’s begin with something easy (and probably ever so familiar, as I suspect you have written something like this before). If you were to submit a bio about yourself, for say, a magazine, what would you write?

Élisabeth Denis is an artist whose practice spans writing, photography, and films with a focus on relational aesthetics. Her work engages with journalistic and non-fiction writing, interactive installations, and social and political art, examining the intersections between personal narratives and collective memory. One of Élisabeth’s photographic series is currently on display in the public space at Parc de la Coulée-Verte in Saint-Lambert, Canada, as part of a year-long exhibition from 2024-2025. Her writing was published in local rag, the Raglan Chronicle, Owl Anthology Dunedin, and Deeper Japan, where she explored themes such as gender dynamics in Kabuki Theatre, nostalgia, ageing, and intimate photojournalistic exploration of memory.

Her work has been further recognised through various residencies, including her two-time selection as an artist in residence at Can Serrat, Spain, the oldest international research and production centers in Catalonia. In 2024, she was invited at the Marina Abramovic Institute's "cleaning the house" workshop in Greece, having earned a scholarship for this program. Additionally, she has been invited to the Arthouse Pani residency in Mexico and she participated at the Hamilton Arts Festival Toi Ora ki Kirikiriroa in New Zealand.

In 2022, she initiated the photojournalistic series "small gestures: exploring the memories of a lived life" in collaboration with residents of the raglan rest home and hospital, a project that received funding from the community fund Raglan co. and the Waikato creative communities. Her dedication to the arts has earned her several awards, including a literary grant from Aféa (uqam - Montreal) and recognition from the Canada Council for the Arts.

Described by Tesh, co-founder of Raglan Co., as a catalyst for community engagement, Élisabeth is known for her leadership and her ability to mobilize collaborative projects. She has served as an art tutor and founded guerilla art jams, curating multi-disciplinary exhibitions and concerts. Her work has been featured in international outlets such as the New Zealand Herald, Waikato Times, New-Zealand Radio (RNZ culture 101), creative Waikato press, WIFT (women in film and television New Zealand), beautiful bizarre (Australia), Raglan Radio, and issuu New Zealand.

With upcoming participations at the Arcus Ibaraki research center in Japan and the Rocaberti Writers Retreat in Spain for 2025, Élisabeth continues to expand her international profile and contribute meaningfully to global art and cross-cultural dialogues.

Q: From the outside, knowing you write, make pictures, films, write poetry, create zines, teach art, do performance art, and create ceramics, how do you fit it all into life? What is your secret?

I prioritize my creative practice above all else. Each year, I dedicate at least two months exclusively to creating, stepping away entirely from paid work during that time. Outside of those months, I usually work a maximum of 20 hours per week, leaving the rest of my time for creative work. Over the years, I’ve been fortunate to receive several artist grants, which have enabled me to focus solely on my creative projects for longer periods of time. I also live simply to reduce financial pressures—low rent, minimal car use, growing my own food, maintaining a small wardrobe, and cooking at home. This lifestyle allows me to focus on my art work without having extensive bills to pay.

Q. I take it that each discipline/art form complements the others? How? Can you give an example, such as how writing prose could help your photography?

My work across mediums often begins with writing. For example, I recently wrote about an experience from childhood when I threw a frog at a window until death to witness death for the first time, then tried to revive it in a cold bath. This led to a conversation with my partner Juan, who shared a similar childhood memory where he put a cat in a plastic bag and threw it in a corn field in Colombia where Narcs abandon dead bodies. These stories inspired the concept for a short film about children’s cruelty.

Another example: during a visit to Mexico, I saw Aztec artifacts that inspired me to recreate similar designs in ceramics. Also, recently, I’ve been observing the number seven appearing repeatedly in my life. Writing about these encounters led me to create a collection of short stories, research the spiritual and cultural meanings of the number, and develop ideas for a film and photographic series documenting my encounters with the number seven.

Each medium feeds the other. Writing often sparks my photography. For instance, when writing about the number seven, I began photographing it wherever I encountered it. These images may eventually accompany the stories I’m crafting or form part of an exhibition.

Q. Who are the artists you are drawn to, and what is it about their work that inspires you?

• Patti Smith for the richness of her lyrics, her mention of the angels and sacrifices, and her shamanic presence.

• Leonard Cohen for the tenderness in his lyrics, voice, and eyes.

• Jeff Buckley for his ethereal angelic voice.

• David Lynch for creating films that express pure emotion and visuals, free from conventional structure.

• Pedro Almodóvar for his use of the color red and his exploration of human paradoxes.

• Laurie Anderson for her experimental approach, like teaching her dog to make a music album.

• Paul Auster for his extraordinary imagination and storytelling.

• Marina Abramović for her performances and being willing to die to perform.

• Werner Herzog for the subjects he picks for his documentaries.

• Clarice Lispector for her fragmented syntax and showing me the heart of a snail.

• Agnes Varda for grabbing a camera and just filmming. 

• Sophie Calle for rupturing the rigidness of adults and finding games in everything.

• Gregory Colbert for capturing the connections between humans and animals.
  
  

Q. How would you describe your creative palette currently?

Writing is my primary focus right now, as I am working on a trilogy.

Q. Has your creative focus shifted over time, or depending on location and experiences?

Absolutely. My creative focus evolves with my life, experiences, and surroundings. I’ve moved away from ceramics, leatherwork, and jewelry-making to focus on writing, photography, long durational performances, interactive installations, and filmmaking. While I use other mediums occasionally to make functional or beautiful objects, my primary goal is to create dialogue and provide experiences. Over the past three years, I’ve worked across many mediums but am now intentionally narrowing my focus to deepen my practice.

Q. Other than deadlines, what influences your focus on a particular discipline?

It depends on how an idea first presents itself. If the idea begins as a concept for a film, I start with writing to develop it. If it’s a photographic project, I outline and write to justify the series. Writing is the foundation for almost everything I create. Although sometimes I take out my camera and start filming without having written anything. I just get a gut feeling and I follow the drive.

Q. Reflecting on your six-hour photography performance in Auckland, where the camera’s shutter sound was replaced by gunfire, what are your thoughts now?

The performance required preparation. I collaborated with a talented sound designer who taught me to use the software and engineer a button to connect my camera to my computer. Finding the perfect model for the project was surprisingly easy, as the first person I considered was ideal. While the performance initially felt ambitious, I now see it as a relatively straightforward undertaking. At the end, the average working hours for a person is 6 hours, that's also what I did in that day. I’m currently envisioning a second version incorporating water and additional elements.

Q. From the outside, you seem to be living the dream: residencies, constant creative output. Is that fair? Or do you have moments where you feel stretched thin?

It’s fair to say I’ve built the life I dreamed of, and I’m profoundly grateful for the space I’ve carved out for creativity. However, it’s also true that some projects take priority, delaying others—like my book, which I’ve been trying to finish since last year. At times, freelance work demands my attention, forcing my creative projects to pause. Balancing everything is challenging, but I wouldn’t trade this life for anything.

Q. How do you define intuition in your artistic practice?

Intuition is a driving force behind much of my work. I often record conversations, take photographs, and collect moments that may later become seeds for future projects. 

For example, last year while in Europe, I discovered that Patti Smith was giving a free concert in Italy. It was first-come, first-served, so I booked a hotel just a day before and arrived two hours early. I ended up in the front row, and the experience was phenomenal, I will never forget her presence. The next morning, I woke up and saw Patti Smith having breakfast just three tables away from me, at my hotel. That morning, I checked out very happy. Across the street, I met a countess who invited me to her palace for coffee. She then introduced me to a friend who owned a castle that had hosted Rainer Maria Rilke, one of my favorite writers, in the early 1900s. On my way there, I found myself sailing on a boat named The Writer with an Italian man who took me to this castle.

These experiences weren’t planned—they happened because I followed my intuition. The people I met, the stories I heard, and the settings I encountered became rich material for writing, photography, and ideas for future films. For me, intuition isn’t just a method of working—it’s a way of navigating life that constantly fuels my creativity.